Takin' a Holiday
by YamiStarFireDemon
Summary: SH22. Lestrade is "kidnapped" by her little sister to Hawaii.... PLZ R&R! Updated finally! Have fun and enjoy!
1. Meeting the sister

Disclaimer: Finally! I promised a SH22 fic and here it is! I do not own Sherlock Holmes in the 22nd Century! I do own Tori (not in THAT way! Sheesh, you people have a one-track mind....) --; Anyway, on with the story!!!  
  
indicates a change of scene or time passing  
  
It was a cold, rainy day in New London. The rain came down in heavy curtains over the city, drenching anything that dared to step outside into it in mere seconds. Weather like this was depressing, not only because of the rain. Today was the beginning of Spring Break and the middle of April.  
Sighing, Lestrade returned to rereading the report Grayson demanded -err- requested she file. A few days ago, the Cuerpo de la Estralla (on lone from Spain) was stolen by Moriarty. It took Holmes about 68 hours to track him down to some old barn near Liverpool. As usual, Moriarty resisted arrest, and, like always, he got away. In the end, Holmes walked away with a cut above his right eye (curtsey of Fenwick), Watson with dents in his torso (one of Moriarty's lackeys who didn't know he was metal), and Lestrade limped away with a sprained ankle (tripped over stairs chasing Moriarty). While reading the report (for about the tenth time), she barely noticed the figure that had walked up to her desk.  
"How's that ankle, Ms. Inspector?"  
Lestrade looked up at the person. A black coat hung loosely on the tall, lean form and came to the knees of a pair of blue jeans. Chestnut hair barely brushed the nicely trimmed shoulders, while cheek-length bangs almost hid a pair of green eyes from sight. With arms behind her back, the young woman smiled mischievously. Groaning at the comment, Lestrade gave her a look.  
"What brings you to the Yard, Tori?"  
Tori just smiled. "This." She brought her hands in front of her, to reveal two Styrofoam coffee cups. "French Vanilla, hold the froth," she continued, holding out the cup in her right hand. Lestrade took it, tossing her report aside.  
"How'd you know," Lestrade said, taking a sip. "That I love French Vanilla coffee?" The other smiled, white teeth flashing.  
"It's what they call a sibling's intuition, Liz."  
  
30 min later  
  
When Holmes walked into New Scotland Yard, the first thing he noticed was the person sitting across from Lestrade. Both seem to be in a deep conversation, between the frequent bursts of laughter and sipping their coffee. He had never really seen Lestrade laugh like she did now, like she was with an old friend or something. He didn't know what it was, but a small part of him couldn't help but notice the way her blue-violet eyes sparkled when she laughed. Scolding himself, Holmes pushed the thought away. The only relationship he and Lestrade had was a business one, nothing more, nothing less.

While he was contemplating this thought, he discovered that Watson had come up behind him and Lestrade had stopped laughing long enough to motion them over. They did so, and when they got to the side of her desk, Holmes got a better look at the young woman who sat across from the inspector. Her hair was a lot like Lestrade's, only a shade darker and no blonde streak. She wore a purple ¾ sleeved shirt over black fishnet, and her blue-jean bellbottoms hugged her waist, however no skin showed.

"Holmes," Lestrade started, motioning to the person across from her. "This is my sister, Victoria. Tori, this is Sherlock Holmes." Holmes bowed, and Tori smiled and took the hand he offered her.

"Pleased to meet you," Tori said. "Liz's told me about you. Congradulations on finding the Cuerpo de la Estrella."

"Thank you," Holmes replied. "I had a great deal of help from you're sister, detective." Astonishment flashed on her emerald eyes, and the revived detective smiled. "I couldn't help but notice you're picture Lestrade's desk."

Sure enough, there on the desk (amid scattered papers and the long- forgotten report) was a small picture frame. The girl in the photo couldn't have been older than 16, with her hair pulled into a simple bun at the base of her neck. She wore the dark blue uniform of the New York Police Department, with her badge proudly shining in the light of the flash. Tori smiled at the picture.

"That's me, alright," Tori laughed. "I didn't think you would have put it on your desk. Well, it seems like you have some business to discus with each other, so I'll just mosey on outa here." With that she rose, and went for her coat and purse on the coat rack beside the desk. Holmes got there first, plucking the trench coat and the burgundy purse off the hook, handing them to the slightly blushing brunette. Slinging the purse's long strap over her shoulder and draping the coat over her arms, she turned to go and looked back to Lestrade. "Let me know if you change you're mind, Liz. Later."

Holmes looked questionably Lestrade, who shook her head at the retreating back of her sister. The inspector waved a gloved hand to the now vacant seat across from her. He sat down, glancing at the picture.

In the time he knew her, Lestrade never talked much about her relatives. He knew her father had been an inspector, before that he worked in New York. Tori was even rarely mentioned than her father was. All he knew was that she lived in the states and that she was going to college in the fall. Besides that, he knew squat.

"That's Victoria for you," Lestrade was saying, picking up the picture and studying it. "She's always finding an excuse to get out of work." Sighing, she replaced the picture.

"And what, pray tell, did she ask of you?" Holmes folded his hands in the traditional "tell-me-everything-I'm-listening" pose.

"She got a vacation instead of the yearly raise," Lestrade started. "All- expense paid trip to anywhere United States. Of course, she picked Hawaii. She can take four people to the islands." She sighed.

"Let me guess," Holmes interrupted. "She was here to ask you to accompany her to the San Juan Inter-Pacific Hotel and Spa in Honolulu, Hawaii. The brochure is under you're report." With the last remark, he reached over, gently brushed away the report, revealing the brightly colored pamphlet. The inspector nodded.

"I told her no way," she continued, eyeing the paper. "I have to do this report, and Grayson will kill me if I'm even an hour late. The problem with Tori is that she's still a kid; she doesn't have a good work ethic. You'd think that attending the best police academy in the US would have at least made her work harder."

"I must say," Watson spoke up, looking over the brochure. "This San Juan Hotel looks like a nice place to take a few days rest."

"You must be joking," Lestrade said, looking at the robot, who handed the paper to Holmes, who in turn looked it over.

"You have been complaining about work." The brunette shot the detective a dangerous look. "I'm just stating the obvious," Holmes added, tossing the pamphlet on the desk.

"You two sound just like my sister," the inspector growled. "Now, I called you here because of the report. I want to know if I got all of this down right..."  
  
Outside  
  
"Wretched weather," Tori mumbled, standing under the covered hoverbus stop. She had been there for about five minutes waiting for the blasted bus. Sighing, she plopped down on the bench, somewhat wet from the few stray drops that the covering didn't catch.  
It wasn't that she was surprised that Liz turned down the offer. Anyone in their right mind would have jumped at the chance to get away from all the doom and gloom that was New London with their little sis. Yet Liz didn't. She had smiled and thanked her for the offer, but politely declined. Even after about five minutes of desperate persuasion her bulldog of a sister wouldn't budge. The sharp ring of her holophone (22nd century version of the cellphone) cut through her reassessment of Liz's reaction.  
Flipping open the device, she spoke into it. "Hello? ... Hey there... Yep, she did, alright... Not really... It takes off about midnight... Right, not much time... I'll call later... bye." Groaning, Tori crossed her arms and pouted. How, in the name of all that is good, could she get Beth Lestrade to agree to go to Hawaii? Beth-the queen of burying herself in enough paperwork to write three, five-inch thick novels. The detective had to face the music: the only way Lestrade was gonna go anywhere was if she was drunk... Wait! While dialing the phone number on the phone, an idea was forming in the brunette's mind. It was a little risky, but it was well worth it. "Hello, J.T.? I have an idea."  
  
Finally! It's finished! IT took me about a month, but it's done... the first chapter! ::sigh:: now it's time for the second chapter... ::pulls out a cooler with coca-cola:: it's gonna be a looong night. Please R&R!! I wanna know what you think!


	2. Oxford's

Hey there!! Here's chapter #2!! The disclaimers are on the first chapter. Thanks to MaryChristmas and Iara for their reviews. Now, with out further adieu, here's Chapter 2!  
  
"Why did I even say I wasn't doing anything tonight?" Lestrade grumbled as she landed her cruiser in front of Oxford's. Victoria had called just as the tired inspector was about to leave her desk for home. She had wanted to eat out with her friends and her big sister before she left for the airport. Oxford's was about four or five blocks away from Lestrade's flat and was rumored to be the best bar-and-grill in the city. Although she had to go home and change, ("This is a fun night, Liz. Don't wear the uniform, ok?") she got there just as the valet hoped up from his place on the steps.  
'Valet parking, great..' The last time she had her cruiser parked by a valet, the kid decided to take a joy ride and ended up crashing into a light pole. If she had known that there was a valet here, she would have walked. However, the inspector didn't feel like walking all the way here and show up hot and sweaty. As for the valet, she wore a simple black jumpsuit, open and showing a white tee underneath. Her dark hair was hidden by the tan pageboy's hat, pulled low enough to almost cover a pair of deep hazel eyes.  
"Welcome, ma'am," the girl said, tipping her cap towards Lestrade. The later tossed her keys to the shorter female.  
"Be careful," Lestrade warned. "Any dents and I sue."  
"I'll be careful," the other replied, opening the driver's door. "I'll pretend that your cruiser's a newborn babe."  
  
inside  
  
It was a typical Monday evening at Oxford's. Meaning, all the tables were surrounded by college students getting away from the nearby New London International College. Well, most of the tables were occupied. At one table, set for four, two young women looked around nervously at the crowd.  
"Where is she?" The blonde woman asked her friend, fiddling with the hem of her white shirt. "JT, did she tell you how long it was going to take?"  
JT groaned. This was the fifth time since they got here she had been asked that. Giving her a sharp, midnight blue glair, the brunette answered. "All I know is that she had some sort of business to take care off before she got here."  
"What if she got caught?"  
Another groan and glair combo. "You need to loosen up a bit, Mira. I'll get you a drink... maybe later. I think I see her sister."  
Mira turned around to look at the tall brunette that came through the doorway. She wore a pair of black slacks, and a red v-neck over a black undershirt. Violet eyes scanned the room, looking for a familiar face. JT nudged her.  
"Go get her," she whispered, leaning in close.  
"Why me?"  
"You're better for the job and you're closer," JT hissed back. "Now GO!"  
Lestrade noticed the little fight between the two women at the table in the center of the room. The blonde got up, gave a death glair to her friend, and walked over, smoothed out her pink gypsy skirt. Suddenly becoming a little shy, the inspector fingered the marble carving on the wall next to her.  
"Excuse me, but are you Ms. Lestrade?"  
A pair of hazel eyes met her own. Just as she was about to speak, a familiar laugh rang out behind her.  
"I see you managed to find normal clothes to wear, Liz."  
Wheeling around, Lestrade came face to face with Tori, bright smile flashing and green eyes dancing. She wore a simple short black skirt and a green tank top that shone silver when the light hit it just right. Her hair was pulled into a ponytail at the base of her neck. Looking past her still startled sister, Tori smiled.  
"See you got us a table already," she said, nodding to JT, who was studying the scene in front of her. "Let's get over there before JT gets a little too anxious and buys too many drinks." With that, the threesome walked over to the table. The tall brunette waiting for them stood up and straightened the black jacket covering a rather low cut silver top. Her flame red pants hugged every curve of her thin legs. Tori motioned to her. "This is Joanna Watson, my roommate at the academy. You've already met my supervisor and friend, Miranda Norton. Guys, this is my sister Elizabeth." "Nice to meet you," Miranda said, nodding politely. "Same here," Joanna said, her thick Brooklyn accent confirming Lestrade's suspicion of her laid-back style (maybe being lectured to use her eyes and ears was not such a waist of her time after all). "Actually, I go by just plain ol' JT."  
  
about an hour later  
  
Laughter exploded from the table as yet another of JT's crazy stories came to an end. Lestrade had lost track of time because the fun she was having. It had been quite a while since she had a dinner with women close to her own age. Mira, who was twenty, was born in Liverpool and landed a job as a lieutenant for the New York Police Department. JT, who was born in Brooklyn, was Tori's roommate all through the hell that was the New England Police Academy in Newark. Although they had net nearly an hour before, Lestrade felt as though she had known them forever.  
"Okay, okay," Tori said, sipping from her coke. "Remember the time in school when I forgot to put on my contacts..?"  
"Ooo," JT busted in, swallowing a mouthful of pizza. "And you couldn't see where you were going and you went head first into the garbage canister and I had to fish you out!" Another burst of laughter as Beth imagined her little sister's legs flailing out of a trash can.  
"I don't know about you," she continued. "But I could go for drink right about now. Any takers?"  
"No thanks," Lestrade said. "Yard policy. If I get caught drunk or drinking, I'm in deep trouble."  
"Too bad, big sis," Tori said mockingly. "Put me down for a Piña Colada."  
Mira looked across the table at her. "Aren't you too young to drink?"  
  
"That's the beauty of England: eighteen and up."  
"Legally?" Hazel eyes turned to Lestrade.  
"Legal enough," the younger Lestrade cut in, giving the elder one a mischievous grin. In a few moments the waiter had come and taken away their empty plates and their drink order: a Piña Colada (Tori), Bloody Mary (JT), white wine (Mira), and a Dr. Pepper (Beth). As soon as the cute young man left, the inspector excused herself and headed in the direction of the bathrooms.  
As soon as she was out of earshot, Tori groaned. "So much for getting her drunk."  
"We still have enough time to get her to agree," Mira said gently. "Remember, you have another thirty minutes before we have to leave here."  
"Thanks for reminding me," was the sarcastic reply. "I was a fool to believe that I could get her drunk. Blasted policy." The detective groaned and started muttering stuff under her breath, such as "what to do, what to do." And "how the heck am I gonna do this?"  
JT had no idea what to do. She had been apart of the plan ever since Tori had come up with it. Now it was gonna be all for nothing. The young woman had barely seen her older sister since her graduation. The nineteen year old wanted her friend to spend more than just a 12 hour layover in the same country as her sister. Then it hit her like a ton of bricks and her eyes became a bright navy blue.  
"I GOT IT!" The other women looked at the brunette with identical questioning looks at the other's outburst. Ignoring the looks, JT dug into her purse and pulled out a little blue vial from the red bag. While Mira drew a blank look, Tori's light up a bit.  
"Is that what I think it is?"  
"Yes, ma'am," JT said proudly, waving the bottle in the light. "Standard for unexpected meals with a criminal suspect."  
"Oh, no," Mira said, eyes wide with fear. "You wouldn't dare!"  
"Thank God you never take that stuff out of your bag," Tori said reaching for Lestrade's half-full Dr. Pepper. Quicker than a flash, Mira grabbed her arm.  
"No way, Tori," she hissed, hazel eyes dark with furry. "It's a crime to drug an officer of the peace. You of all people should know that!"  
"Desperate times call for desperate measures, Mir. Right now we have no options left. It will only knock her out for a good day or so."  
Reluctantly the blonde let go of her arm, crossing her own and watching in the direction of the bathrooms. Tori nodded at JT, who pulled off the stopper of the vile and picked up the glass. Titling the vile ever so slightly, a clear liquid dripped out. One, two, three, four. That was all it took. JT re-corked the vile and slipped it back into her bag. Plucking it from her grasp, Tori swirled it around a bit.  
"Incoming," Mira said suddenly. Beth was out of the bathroom! Swearing under her breath, she carefully swirled it under her nose then place it back in its spot just as her sister came up and sat down. She had seen her sibling swirl her drink under her nose and gave her a quizzical look.  
"Um... well," Tori stammered, trying to come up with some answer. She had swirled it under her nose to make sure there was no sent. "They say that if you let your soft drink sit still for a while, it smells differently. I was just seeing if it was true." The slightly embarrassed detective avoided the astonished and open-mouthed faces of her two friends.  
  
"I've never heard of that," the violet-eyed inspector replied, vaguely taking a whiff of her soda. "Is it true?"  
"Um... Yes, it is true!" (If this were an anime, all but Lestrade would have sweat drops.)  
Shrugging it off, Lestrade took a sip of her drink. Mira held her breath. 'She's gonna find out,' she thought warningly. 'She's gonna know...' Instead, the inspector sipped casually on her drink for quite a while.  
  
ten minutes later  
  
Beth yawned. She had no idea why she was tired. Maybe reading that zedded report took all of her energy away. Another yawn escaped. This one caught Tori's attention.  
"Hey, sis," she said, nudging her a bit. "You look tired. Hard day at the yard?" No answer.  
'Wha- what's going on?' Lestrade thought. 'I'm never this tired after work.' An aching pain had started up in her head. Her vision went from burry to clear all too rapidly. Tori was saying something, her face a blur. Mira spoke as well.  
"I knew this would happen" then darkness enveloped Inspector Lestrade.  
  
Finally! The chapter is done. Thought it would never get finished. ::wipes sweat from brow:: It's a first for me to post a second chapter, considering there are too other stories I have yet to continue v.v ... the whole drug- in-drink thing I got partially from the Devine Secrets of the YaYa Sisterhood... If you do review, please help me with a little question: Should I have Moriarty or an original character cause some mischief? I just can't decide... so, please review!! 


	3. the day after

Hello there! Let me start off by thanking Iara and Angelina 809 for their reviews. Now here, you see, is chapter number three!  
  
The early morning sunlight peaked in through the gauzy curtains of the bedroom. The room was furnished in pale colors, including white, and oak. The sounds of the not so far away beach and of crying seagulls filled the breeze that blew in through the open window. Only a tuft of black hair was visible under the white sheets. Groaning, Kyle opened his eyes. He was alone. She had gotten up before him, sometime before dawn, not that he was worried about it. His beloved liked to be alone in the mornings; to be outside when the world was still asleep. Rubbing the sleep from his grey eyes, he got out of bed and walked over to the open window, and there she was.  
  
outside  
  
Clad in a pair of pajama pants and a tank top, Tori stood alone on the sand in front of the wooden deck. She quickly set of in her routine kung fu, gracefully dropping to a crouch and arms moving fluidly through the movements. Every turn she made flipped her loose hair, creating a rich chestnut halo around her face. When she was done, her eyes fell on the half- dressed form of her boyfriend on the deck. Flashing a smile she trotted over to the stairs and climbed them up to the deck. "Good morning, sunshine," she said, giving him a peck on the cheek. "I thought you were on vacation, Tori," he replied, picking up her hair scrunchy and tossing it too her. "That means time to brake free of the daily routine.' "Old habits die hard," she said. "Besides, I had to clear my head." Within a few seconds her hair (now a bit messed up) was in a loose ponytail and she spotted the cups of hot tea on the deck table. "Nice and hearbaly," Kyle said, handing her a cup. "So, I hear Operation: "Kidnap"-Sister was a success." At the last remark he got a harsh glair. "Uh-oh, trouble with customs?" "Not funny, Ky." Tori took a sip of the tea. It was just warm enough to lightly burn her tongue. "Tell me." "Well," she began. "She fell asleep during dinner. We played it off that she had taken a sip of the Bloody Mary and couldn't hold her liquor. When we go to the airport, we told the people that she had narcolepsy and would be out for a while. They bought it!" "No problems so far," he said, sipping his own tea. "What's the problem?" "Well... Irene was supposed to leave a note in Liz's apartment saying that she had decided to take me up on my offer... and she didn't." Kyle almost spit his tea out. "W-what?!" Tori nodded. "No one knows she's gone. If they go to her flat and she isn't there, with some clothes gone and stuff, they're gonna think that she's been kidnapped for real!" "'They'?" "Sherlock Holmes and Chief Inspector Grayson." "Surely they'll think she on vacation, with her clothes gone and that." "That's why I'm worried. You don't know my sister. She never goes on vacations. EVER." Tori collapsed into a patio chair and held her head in her hands. "I really screwed this up didn't I?" "No, you didn't," Kyle said, pulling her out of the chair and hugging the detective close. "You've been in worse situations than this. You'll figure it out." He then lifted her face to look at him. Her green eyes caught some of the morning sun's light, giving them a gold tint. They're faces drifted closer to each other, and then... "VICTORIA RENAE LESTRADE!!!!!" "Oh, crap. She's awake."  
  
NEW LONDON  
  
Holmes awoke to the annoying beep of the vidphone demanding his attention. From his seat in his comfy armchair, he cast a weary blue-grey eye at the machine. He groaned, stretched, and listened to the heavy thumps that came closer outside the living room door. It was Watson, he deduced, or rather, he knew from countless occasions when he had fallen asleep in his armchair.  
Just like he guessed, Watson opened the door and entered with a tray of eggs, bacon, and biscuits. Noticing the tall blonde still in his place, he crossed the living room to the table and laid the tray down. "Fall asleep in the armchair again, Holmes?" At the sound of his name, said detective rose from the chair and crossed over to where his metal friend stood.  
"I see that the food processor is still not working as it should," he observed, picking up the fork and moving the eggs with it. "I should remember to call the repairer about it."  
"I would do it myself, but I'm not equipped for such things."  
Holmes smiled at this. The real Watson wasn't equipped for a lot of tasks, save his medical knowledge and trusty pistol. Both of which, Holmes recalled, came in handy during almost all of his cases. The Watson nowadays was equipped with even more knowledge as well as many new gadgets including a built-in ionizer, much of an improvement.  
The vidphone had been beeping throughout all this, and Watson went to answer it. The angered and flustered face of the chief inspector popped up instantly on the screen.  
"Ah, Chief Inspector Greyson," Homes said coming over to pear over Watson's metal shoulder. "To what do we owe this interruption of the morning?"  
"Skip the Victorianism," growled the graying man. "Where is Lestrade?"  
"As you can see," he replied, moving so Greyson could have a clear view of the room. "She is not here. Have you perhaps tried her flat?"  
"About a hundred times. She won't answer."  
"Maybe she's still asleep."  
The remark earned the revived detective a sharp glair. "That woman's been on time for work since day one. She never sleeps in."  
"Maybe she's taken ill," Watson chimed in, taking interest in this conversation.  
"Lestrade's the reason most of the workers get sick. She never takes a sick day. If she was dying she'd still be at work."  
Holmes was running out of ideas. It was true; the inspector never took a single day off. The only other explanation for her actions jumped up and down at the back of his mind, attempting to get his attention. Frowning inwardly, he brushed the thought from his mind, but he couldn't shake the question: Was there foul play at work here?  
"Anyway," Grayson continued. "I want you to go over to her apartment." He added, when Homes' eyebrow arched. "Better you than me. That way she doesn't go off the deep end." The connection then ended.  
By then, Homes was already donning his everness and deerstalker.  
  
a few minutes later and on the other side of New London  
  
When Holmes got to the building where Lestrade's flat was, he restrained himself from bolting up the stairs and breaking down her door. He knew what he would find; he just didn't want to admit it. As he walked up the stairs, into the building and to the flat in question, that annoying explanation jumped up again, yelling, "pick me, you know it's going to be me!" Yet again, he brushed the thought away, but it didn't completely go away, it just went into a far corner of his mind.  
They stopped in front of 23b. As Watson fumbled for his lock-pick, Holmes reached up and found the extra card-key atop the doorframe. Ignoring the robot's astonished look, he swiped the key and opened the door.  
The flat was just as he remembered it: a nice view of the New London skyline, desk with papers strewn across it, same second-hand furniture, and the bookcase full of books of all subjects, ranging from space exploration to Watson's journals. The one thing missing was the owner of the place. Watson crept (as well as he could; he is made of metal) into the bedroom, leaving Holmes to examine the rest of the place.  
A few minutes later, Watson's head poked out of the bedroom. "Some the closet door is open, and there are clothes strewn about in here," he reported. "It appears that some of her necessities are missing from the bathroom."  
Holmes fallowed his friend into the bedroom and gave it a look-over. The bed, a four-poster, was made and looked like no one had recently slept in it. On the bed were different types of clothes, a sundress here, and a skirt there. A big armchair was in the corner, under a pile of various tops. The dresser (matching the dark cherry bed) had clothes neatly folded and socks and other undergarments (noted by a slightly blushing Holmes) stuck out of the closed drawers. The detective could hardly believe all these clothes belonged to Lestrade; the only clothes he'd seen her wear was her uniform.  
"Watson," he called (Watson was in the bathroom). "What do you see that is missing?"  
"Toothbrush, hairbrush, toothpaste, hygienic items... Things one usually need for a trip of some sorts."  
"Any DNA evidence?"  
"Only Lestrade's. Either she was here or someone wearing gloves."  
The last part struck a chord in Holmes' mind. Now it was official. He had seen the evidence and it pointed in one direction: kidnapping. The blonde returned to the living room with Watson at his heels. After a few moments of thinking, she spoke.  
"I'm afraid that our dear Lestrade has been kidnapped."  
"By whom?" Watson was quite alarmed.  
"My guess is Professor Moriarty. No doubt that he'd try to get his revenge for our little intervention with his plan."  
"I wouldn't put it past him, but where do we start? Moriatry could be anywhere with Inspector Lestrade!"  
'True,' Holmes thought. It did seem that the cloned professor had the upper hand... 'Not for much longer.'  
As his eyes gave another sweep of the room, they fell on the pad of paper next to the vidphone. He swooped down at it, snatching it up and studying it. The handwriting was Lestrade's own, written in a hurry and then tossed carelessly on the desk:  
  
"Oxford's- 8 o'clock"  
  
"Let's go," Holmes spoke aloud, making way for the door.  
"Where to, Holmes?" Watson asked, fallowing the taller man.  
"To Oxford's. Perhaps someone there will know the whereabouts of our dear Lestrade."  
  
I'm done! Yay! ::does a happy dance:: I hope you liked it. This one is the first of many hard chapters, mainly because I've got Sherly on the case, and he's hard to write! ::wah:: Anyway, I think I did ok with this. Any helpful hints will help me a lot. Until the next chapter, ja-ne! (goodbye) PS: I'm reading a Mary Russell novel (Justice Hall-got it Monday) just for the sake of it, and because school is out and I'm curious as to what her story is... so far it's really good. PSS: Sherly = Sherlock Holmes. Hope he never finds out ::sees the shadow of a tall man in a deerstalker, squeaks and runs for cover:: 


	4. Hell hath no furry like Inspector Lestra...

::pops up from out of nowhere:: hey there! Just wanted to thank all those who reviewed, and introduce the next chapter... and here it is: Chapter Four!!  
  
The first thing Lestrade noticed when she opened her eyes was the bright light pointed at her. She squeezed her eyes shut, cursing whoever had pointed the zedded lamp towards her. Thoughts tossed around inside her head. Was this the work of Moriarty?  
'What happened,' she thought. 'I only remember being at Oxford's with Tori and her friends...' Tori! The inspector had completely forgotten about her. 'Ok, don't panic. If Moriarty is behind this, no doubt he'll show up. Then I'll get some answers.'  
A sudden creak of wood outside the room caused Lestrade to silence the voices in her head. She lay still for a moment, listening hard for the click of boots or turn of a doorknob. None came. Instead there was a shrill cry of a .... seagull?  
Lestrade's eyes flew open. Blinking a few times, she studied her surroundings. She was lying in a twin-sized bed, made of a polished cedar, facing an open window. The dresser (on the left wall next to the door) matched the bed and had a small bag on top of it, directly below the circular mirror. To the right of the bed there was a small table, chair and lamp, all below a window.  
The inspector sat up with a start, but instantly regretted it when a sharp pain throbbed in her head. "OK, bad idea," she muttered, clutching her forehead. Looking around again, she spotted a suitcase next to the dresser, a laptop on the desk, and a pile of clothes: all hers. A new sound entered the room, but only because Lestrade just now noticed it: the sound of waves. She was on a beach... in a beach house. "Oh, no she didn't," Lestrade hissed, getting out of bed, grabbing hold of the headboard for support. She wouldn't dare stoop to kidnapping, sister or no. There was only one way to find out. "VICTORIA RENAE LESTRADE!!"  
  
downstairs  
  
"What the heck?" JT looked up, and then went back to pouring the batter into the waffle maker. By the use of her partner's full name, she guessed that her sister was awake and fully free of the drug's effects. Stifling a yawn, the brunette closed the waffle maker and turned away from the counter to search for the eggs in the fridge. However, she walked into something short.  
"Good morning to you to," Mira greeted, handing the half-asleep JT the eggs. Giving a glance around the kitchen, her eyes rested on the coffeemaker filled with hot water. She stepped over, grabbed a coffee mug and poured what was left of the water in. Then she set to work pouring more water into the maker as well as the coffee mix. "Looks like our guest is awake."  
"I'd say she's more than just 'awake,'" JT croaked, taking out the now done waffle from the maker. "That girl probably woke up the entire island with that holler of her's."  
"She wouldn't have hollered if she wasn't drugged like that," Mira said, tossing part of her tangled hair over her shoulder. The sliding door to the patio opened halfway through her sentence and Tori and Kyle walked in. JT gave Mira a warning glance as soon as the door started to slide open, but she didn't mind it.  
"What's all the racket in here?" Kyle looked between the two females. JT was about to answer when Tori held up her hand for silence. They all paused and listened to the noises coming from the upstairs room above them.  
  
First there was a thump, then a few choice words. Then came a series of thumps, like someone was hoping on one foot. Then silence... but not for long. A door slammed against the wall, making everyone jump. Another series of thumps, this time towards the staircase. At the sound of feet stomping to the stairwell, Kyle quietly closed the screen door that he had left open. Mira scooted closer to the alcove where the stairs came out. JT moved closer to Tori, who nervously slipped closer to her boyfriend. Oh, yeah. She was in big trouble. No sooner had she moved than a not-so-happy Lestrade stormed in. She was dressed in blue jeans (hence the thumping around) and a grey New Scotland Yard tee-shirt. Her brown hair was tousled from sleep, and the look on her face could kill half the world's population. Burning violet eyes rested on Tori, who turned two shades paler and took a nervous sip of her tea. "Where the hell am I?" The tone of her voice was deadly. "Liz! It's about time you got up. I was beginning to worry..." "Where am I?" She asked again, voice rising. "On Macil Island, about three miles off of the Big Island," Kyle said quietly. Lestrade looked at him in disbelief. "Hawaii?" Lestrade blinked in amazement. Then the thought registered, and her eyes became a shade darker and narrowed at her little sister. "How did I get here?" "On a plane," JT said, no longer croaking. She let out a little "eep!" when four pairs of eyes glared in her direction. "Shut up, JT," Kyle, Tori, and Mira said at the same time. Lestrade rolled her eyes at the joke, and then continued her "Glare Tori to Death" look.  
"We drugged you," Tori said taking a sip of her tea.  
"You WHAT?!"  
"Drugged you," the younger Lestrade repeated, meeting the piercing gaze of her sister. "It was the only way to get you here and not have you make a commotion."  
"Victoria Renae," the brunette said, voice continuing to rise. "What in the name of all that is good were you thinking?! Drugging an officer! Drugging me! Explain yourself!!"  
"You work too much," she replied calmly. "I thought a vacation would do you well."  
"Well, you thought wrong," spat the red-faced woman. "I was this close to craking a case. I have to get back to New London."  
"No," Tori said firmly, placing the cup on the counter. "You aren't going anywhere, dear sister of mine." The tone of her voice was similar to Holmes', when he knew something that she didn't.  
"And why is that?"  
The younger sister reached into her back pocket and pulled out the one thing that would get her sister, Inspector Elizabeth Lestrade, to do anything she wanted.  
  
What is it that would make our dear Lestrade do anything? It's up to you, folks! Include an idea of the object Tori uses to blackmail Lestrade in your reviews. Thanks for helping me out! Now that that's out of the way, I'll take this time to apologize for the shortness of this chapter. Dr. Watson says that I'm suffering from writer's block caused by the letting out of school He says it will pass pretty soon. Hope it does.... I hope to finish "Takin' a Holiday" before school starts up again...  
Again as always, please R&R!  
  
PS: If you can tell me what "Macil" means, I'll give you a cookie. (hint: it's Quenya, the elvish language used in Lord of The Rings) 


	5. The search goes on

Chapter Five: here it is. Thanks to all that reviewed, and give it up for chapter Five!!  
  
New London  
  
It was well after dark before Holmes and Watson returned to Baker Street. The past five hours had been spent asking around Oxford's for anyone who could identify Lestrade. It took three hours, but they did find the waiter who served the inspector and the three women with her. The young man gave Holmes a detailed description of the women, who had Watson record it.  
"Now what do we do, Holmes?" Watson said once they had put their coats on their pegs. "All we have are three mystery women and still no Lestrade."  
"Correction," the blonde said, sitting in his red armchair. "We have two unidentified women and an AWOL Lestrade."  
"You know who the identity of one of the women?"  
"I believe you recorded the description of the women. Would you be so kind as to play it back and listen carefully?" Watson opened up the panel in his chest and fiddled with some of the buttons. The weary cockney voice of the waiter started speaking.  
"Well, two of them arrived about 7:57. One was tall; dark eyes, maybe dark blue... the other was shorter, blond hair and hazel eyes...," the waiter said.  
"And the other one?" Holmes's stern voice was heard.  
"Well, the inspector showed up around 8:05. She was fallowed in by this cute brunette..."  
"Please stick to the women in question."  
"That's what I mean. She was kinda tall, about the same hair color of the inspector's and a pair of really green eyes. She was wearing this short black skirt and a green top," he said. "She was a real cutie..."  
It was there that Holmes had Watson shut off the recording. Watson thought for a moment, then gave a small gasp. "Lestrade's sister!" He exclaimed.  
"It appears to me that Miss Lestrade is a key player in all this," Holmes said, leaning back in his armchair and folded his hands. "It's quite easy to assume that she knew the other women, and had Lestrade meet her at Oxford's."  
"Do you think that she had anything to do with her sister's disappearance?"  
Holmes thought for a moment. "I honestly don't know," Holmes said slowly. "However, we can't rule her out just yet. We have yet to gather enough evidence to support any claims. That, however, is something I am about to change."  
  
Macil Island  
  
Lestrade grumbled as she paced around her room. Who could blame her? If you were drugged, taken to some remote island in the Atlantic and blackmailed into staying, would you be happy as a clam? She stopped pacing when a low growling sound broke the silence of the room.  
It had been a few hours since she had been downstairs. In the few minutes she had been down there, the inspector had neglected to get something to eat. Taking a deep breath, she silently walked to the door and down the stairs into the kitchen.  
"Hello, Ms. Lestrade."  
'Damn,' she thought, nodding her head in Mira's direction. 'I thought they were all gone.' Instead she said, "Where's everyone?"  
"Shopping," the blonde replied. "We only had enough food left for a day or so anyway. There are some ramen noodles in the pot on the stove."  
"Thank you," she said, going over and spooning a good heap of noodles into a bowl. "Who was that boy?"  
"You mean Kyle?"  
"Yeah," Lestrade said. "How does he know Tori?"  
Mira handed the brunette a fork. "He went to the academy," she said. "They hooked up a few months before graduation." Lestrade chewed on this for a while, twirling her fork in the noodles and shoveling them into her mouth.  
"I'm sorry about what she did," Mira continued. "She wanted to spend some time with you and wanted you to have fun. You know, get away from New London."  
"I know," was the reply. "I think she may be right though. I have been working too hard at times. It was just that she did this at a bad time."  
"Ah, I see. About to get a break in a case, eh?"  
"You could say that."  
A long silence enveloped them. Mira was the first to speak. "By the way," she said. "Since this is a resort, there is a spa not far from here. Us girls are going to check it out later on this afternoon. Want to join us?"  
Lestrade shoved the last of her noodles into her mouth. "Of course," she answered. "Never been to a spa before." 'Since I am here, I might as well go,' she added mentally.  
"Neither have we," Mira answered. "We're gonna leave about 1:30."  
  
Somewhere close  
  
Cold grey eyes fallowed the blonde haired woman leave the room. He smiled as the inspector put her bowl in the sink and retreat to the living room. He turned off the monitor of his computer and sat back in his chair. Fingering his beard, he thought of how well his plan was playing out without his having to intervene.  
He didn't hear as his servant stepped up to the door. "Yes?" he said, never looking at him.  
"Master, the plan is set."  
"Everything?"  
"It's foolproof, sir. Not even Holmes himself would notice."  
"Excellent. Our dear inspector won't know what hit her."  
"But what about the sister and her friends?"  
"The friends will have to wait. As for the sister and her dear boyfriend, I will deal with them personally."  
  
Whew!! It's finally done!!! And we have a plot! YAY!!!! What does Moriarty have planned for the Lestrade sisters? And will Holmes figure it all out? Stay tuned!!!!!

PS: Macil is the elvish word for Sword.


	6. The Spa

Hey there! I have finally gotten around to posting another chapter. Writers block and school have kept me away, but now I'm back with a new chapter. Enjoy!

"This place reminds me of the Buckingham Palace in the late 1900s," Lestrade said, stepping into the entrance hall and pausing to look around. The entire place was decorated with marble columns and glass tables with large pots of flowers. Strategically placed mirrors with gold frames made the easily crowded place bigger.

JT, decked out in short shorts and a bright pink tube top, looked around. "Whoever built this place must have had money coming out of their ears," she said, shifting nervously from foot to foot.

"Almost," Mira said, taking the lead and leading the others down the hall to the counter. She had dressed more modestly, with a knee-length skirt and a baby-doll tee. "This place was built by Donald Trump, one of the richest men of his era. Here's a picture of him." She pointed to a painting of a rather mean looking man in a suit.

"Reminds me of this crime boss I arrested," Tori said, tilting her head to the side. Unlike Mira and JT, the younger Lestrade wore pale blue jeans and a white peasant top. She turned to her sister, who wore jeans and a grey tank top. "What about you?"

"Reminds me of Greyson," she said dryly. Lestrade turned and fallowed the other women as they headed toward the check-in counter. Mira, in the lead, spoke with the receptionist while the other three stood to the side and looked out a window at the small tropical garden.

"I wonder how he's doing," Beth continued on, shooting a glair in Tori's direction.

"I'm sure he's fine," was the reply, wickedly smiling. "In fact, I think he's having the time of his life."

"That was uncalled for," JT said, trying to hide a smile. She wandered off towards Mira and let the two sisters alone to bicker.

5 minutes later

"Well, here's the list of everything there is to do here," Mira said, handing everyone a pamphlet. "Ok, according to the package I managed to bargain out of the cashier, we have unlimited use to the spa and whatever we do that may cost an arm and a leg is already paid for by the government."

"Are you for real?" JT's eyes got big as she looked through the pamphlet. Tori also flipped through it, and pointed out something to her sister.

"Look, you can get a mud bath with a friend..... or sibling."

"Nice try, little sister," Lestrade said, smacking said sibling over the head with her pamphlet. "I'm not getting undressed just to go and swim in the mud."

"Says here they give free massages with the mud baths," Mira said, studying the description. "Supposed to be very relaxing and it's given by the hunkiest men this side of the States."

"What are we waiting for?" Tori grabbed her sister's arm. "Let's go!" Lestrade didn't have a chance to answer before she was dragged away towards the right. The other two watched the two go off. JT turned to Mira and looked at the pamphlet.

"Did you make all that up?"

"Most of it," Mira said, starting off towards the other direction. "It says nothing about them being the hunkiest men this side of the States, but I'm sure they'd have to be to get a job here."

Meanwhile

Fenwick eyed the monitors nervously. It had seemed like forever before the group split up, and just the way he had planned it. He wasn't at all worried about Lestrade or her sister, who seemed the laid-back type of cop. The other two; however, seemed to prove more of a challenge, especially the blonde one.

"Everything is prepared sir," one of the "employees" said over the microphone. "The sisters are headed for the mud bath area and the other two are headed for the steam rooms."

"Excellent," Fenwick mused. This was going to be greatest scheme ever, and all four women had fallen right into it. 'They won't know what hit them,' the Frenchmen thought. 'Soon, Ms Inspector will be our prisoner, and my master will finally get his revenge on Sherlock Holmes!'

Please excuse the reference to Donald Trump, but I find his stern expression mirroring Greysons... eh well. I will return again with the next chapter, when we finally see some action. Stay tuned and please review!


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